In Bretten Hannam's feature film debut, they employ the familiar beats of the coming-of-age genre through the eyes of a queer Indigenous teenager. Wildhood is a beautiful and compelling film, and a welcome addition to the diverse landscape of Canadian cinema.
In Wildhood, we follow Link (Phillip Lewitski), a half-white, half-Mi'kmaw, two-spirit teenager living with his abusive father and half brother Travis (Avery Winters-Anthony). At the beginning of the film, we see Link struggle with his Mi'kmaw identity. He dyes his hair blonde in the hopes of looking more Caucasian and bristles when the traditional language is spoken to him. Link discovers that his mother, who he had been told was dead, may be alive, and he sets off with Travis to find her. After a dramatic escape from their father, Link and Travis meet Pasmay (Joshua Odjick), a similar-aged Mi'kmaw nomad who offers his truck and guidance to find Link's mom.
Pasmay serves as the catalyst to two significant turning points in Link's life: a deeper understanding, and ultimate acceptance, of his Indigenous roots, and his sexual awakening. The relationship between Pasmay and Link is tender, romantic and, at times, contentious. The hesitation and doubt in Link is clear, and Lewitski plays the duality of reluctance and desire with great complexity. Odjick also shines in his role as the more self-assured and confident of the two. Their chemistry is palpable, with lust and hopefulness steering their characters.
The music in Wildhood deserves a separate shout-out. Composed by Neil Haverty of Bruce Peninsula, the score is absolutely stunning. Each piece of music is beautiful, haunting, and enhances the moment without overpowering. There are also a couple of hip-hop tracks that provide excellent needle drops by hyping up the moments and adding some grit to the film.
Hannam shows that predictability isn't necessarily a bad thing. Not every film needs to subvert a genre or have a big twist and/or reveal in the final act. Wildhood is simple storytelling done well with the script, camera work, music and performances creating a well-rounded film that is grounded and engaging.
While Link's coming-of-age story is universal, the LGBTQ+ and Indigenous lenses through which Wildhood is told adds extra layers. Hannam — a non-binary, two-spirit Mi'kmaw born and raised in Nova Scotia — is able to tell Link and Pasmay's stories with a sense of authenticity Hollywood studios often attempt to imitate.
Wildhood is a great example of why, if a studio wishes to make films under the guise of representation and diversity, it's not enough to simply hire a few non-white actors of varying genders and call it a day. If you want Indigenous stories, give the opportunity to Indigenous filmmakers to tell them.
(Mongrel Media)In Wildhood, we follow Link (Phillip Lewitski), a half-white, half-Mi'kmaw, two-spirit teenager living with his abusive father and half brother Travis (Avery Winters-Anthony). At the beginning of the film, we see Link struggle with his Mi'kmaw identity. He dyes his hair blonde in the hopes of looking more Caucasian and bristles when the traditional language is spoken to him. Link discovers that his mother, who he had been told was dead, may be alive, and he sets off with Travis to find her. After a dramatic escape from their father, Link and Travis meet Pasmay (Joshua Odjick), a similar-aged Mi'kmaw nomad who offers his truck and guidance to find Link's mom.
Pasmay serves as the catalyst to two significant turning points in Link's life: a deeper understanding, and ultimate acceptance, of his Indigenous roots, and his sexual awakening. The relationship between Pasmay and Link is tender, romantic and, at times, contentious. The hesitation and doubt in Link is clear, and Lewitski plays the duality of reluctance and desire with great complexity. Odjick also shines in his role as the more self-assured and confident of the two. Their chemistry is palpable, with lust and hopefulness steering their characters.
The music in Wildhood deserves a separate shout-out. Composed by Neil Haverty of Bruce Peninsula, the score is absolutely stunning. Each piece of music is beautiful, haunting, and enhances the moment without overpowering. There are also a couple of hip-hop tracks that provide excellent needle drops by hyping up the moments and adding some grit to the film.
Hannam shows that predictability isn't necessarily a bad thing. Not every film needs to subvert a genre or have a big twist and/or reveal in the final act. Wildhood is simple storytelling done well with the script, camera work, music and performances creating a well-rounded film that is grounded and engaging.
While Link's coming-of-age story is universal, the LGBTQ+ and Indigenous lenses through which Wildhood is told adds extra layers. Hannam — a non-binary, two-spirit Mi'kmaw born and raised in Nova Scotia — is able to tell Link and Pasmay's stories with a sense of authenticity Hollywood studios often attempt to imitate.
Wildhood is a great example of why, if a studio wishes to make films under the guise of representation and diversity, it's not enough to simply hire a few non-white actors of varying genders and call it a day. If you want Indigenous stories, give the opportunity to Indigenous filmmakers to tell them.
